


Welcome Home

by itsastanaphon



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Angst, Comfort, M/M, OT3 Mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5006707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsastanaphon/pseuds/itsastanaphon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ocelot laments in his Intel dome about having to share the Boss with others, but gets interrupted during his thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

                 He had always been a jealous man. He had always wanted it all; regardless of whatever it was he was after. He had always wanted to be the best gunslinger; he had always wanted to be able to hit every target, on target, every time. He’d always wanted every bit of Intel on anyone, he wanted to find out everyone’s little secrets and hold those dark chasms over people. He’d just always prided himself in being the best of his chosen fields. But in this case, as it had been for years, it was every part of Snake, of Big Boss, well, every part of John, which Adamska had wanted. He’d wanted to be the sole center of John’s attentions. Adamska hadn’t expected to have to share John. He was fine with the arrangement they had on Mother Base now, though. He had convinced himself he was all right with it months ago when all this started.

                Miller and Adamska fought, they bickered, they disagreed, but they always both went with whatever the Boss said they had to do. They always ended up working together, but as of late, Adamska had felt they’d been working separately on only one front: Snake. They’d never shared him together, never openly, never in the light of day. They’d never been two to speak on such a thing and now that they were all living within close proximity, it seemed to be something that Adamska had his face rubbed in a lot. He knew it wasn’t conscious on Snake’s part. That wasn’t his forte. The Big Boss wouldn’t push something like that in Adamska or Miller’s face. He knew the score. But there was always that unspoken bond between the three of them: when they were standing on that helicopter-landing zone. The way that Snake wouldn’t openly tell either of them goodbye the way they both obviously wanted him to. He’d do his signature Big Boss nod, the way he tilted his head to them both, as if they were simply friends, colleagues, just people he worked with. The way they both nodded wordlessly in return. Miller purely staring at the helicopter, his usually pouty lips in a tight straight line on his face. Adamska simply standing there with his arms crossed across his chest; his scarf blowing in the wind created by the helicopter.

               They both knew that every time Snake went out, he might not come back, so it was always tense. Adamska loved hearing from John when he was out in the field though. Snake wanting Intel on this or that: people, animals, local geography, and surrounding villages. Adamska loved giving John whatever he needed or wanted. He had no idea what information Miller offered ever over the COM system, R&D or otherwise. Adamska and Miller certainly never talked about what the other told John when he was in the field. Adamska was usually in his Intel base, gathering information and waiting to hear from the Boss, just to hear his voice and make sure everything was fine, that he was alive. He’d never admit it to anyone, well, anyone but Snake, but sometimes he just sat around twirling his revolver for hours. He referred to it as his ‘downtime’, he figured everyone needed it and partook sometimes. It was only fair.

               It was during his downtime that Adamska found himself wondering if when Snake returned, if he and Miller shouldn’t make up a schedule. If perhaps, maybe, they should actually talk about how much time they each really needed or wanted with the Boss. He cursed in Russian under his breath, _der’mo_. He didn’t want to make up a schedule; he just wanted to never talk about it with Miller. He never wanted to discuss this…arrangement…this…settlement. He ran his hands over his face, leaning forward, his sharp elbows pushing into his thighs. Adamska’s thin fingers now finding their way into his lanky blonde hair, running over his scalp, making small circular motions with his fingertips. He sat like that for some time. Head in his hands, fingers buried in his hair, thinking. He rarely did this. He rarely felt the need to stop and think. But now his eyes simply watched the floor, his ears buzzing with the sounds of the Intel dome, _beeps_ and _boops_ in the background. It was comforting in its own way.               

              “Working hard I see.” A deep rumbling sound broke the electronic background noise of the Intel dome. Adamska pulling his fingers free of his scalp immediately, hair clinging to his hands as he turned around. John stood in the doorway, leaning his right shoulder against the metal frame of the door, his right thumb resting on his belt. Adamska made a quick mental note of how dirty Snake looked. How severely he obviously needed a shower, having been in the field for days, weeks; crawling in only god knows what.   Adamska stood, rubbing the warm palms of his hands on his pants, the fabric rippling under the skin. A small smile coming to his face then as he took several steps towards Snake. Stopping just short of the doorframe.               

              “Yeah, actually. Well, I was.” His eyes glanced around the room quickly, falling back on the Boss, sighing, before continuing, “I’m not now. Thanks for that.” Adamska said tartly, his tone was warm though. But there he was, giving himself away no doubt, as usual. Snake gave a broad smile then, showing the whiteness of his teeth, he pulled himself away from the doorframe. The way the Boss walked made Adamska’s blood pump a little too fast and he knew his nose was probably flushing red and he thanked whatever gods would listen that the Intel dome was as dark as it was.               

              “Well, at least that’s something, right?” Snake said as his eyebrow rose, his lips curved into a bit of a wicked grin. But before Adamska could respond, the Boss had his index finger in Adamska’s belt loop, puling him closer. Now they were face to face, again. It was inevitable. Adamska’s thin fingers twitched by his sides, he tried clenching them into fists but he couldn’t stop himself. One minute their bodies were mere inches apart and then Snake’s, _no, no, John’s,_ warm lips were on his and it was all encompassing and warm and so fucking _good_. Adamska’s fingers were raking their way through John’s messy, dirty, unkempt, unclean hair, but he didn’t care about that. He was always so meticulous about how clean he was, so having this big, strong, dirty version of John pulling him as close as he could possibly physically be to him was erotic in and of itself. As their lips parted saliva made a trail between both their bottom lips. Adamska found himself licking it away and regretting it. It had been like a lifeline, a connection to John that few had or ever would. But he had it in that moment.               

              “Did the mission go well?” Adamska asked finally, awkwardly, after breaking away from John’s grasp a bit. He noted how small his voice sounded. John’s fingers still holding onto Adamska’s belt loops, as if he wouldn’t let him; no, John didn’t want Adamska to get too far away now. They were both simply staring at each other at this point, waiting for the other. He didn’t answer Adamska right away. John slowly began pushing Adamska backwards to the swivel office chair, tugging lightly on the belt loops, turning the other man around. John sat down in the chair then and nodded in silence, pulling Adamska to him so that he landed straddled on John’s lap. It was nice, maybe too nice and Adamska found himself breathing a little harder, his teeth biting the inside of his lip. His fingers were still buried in John’s hair as John pulled Adamska’s body to his own, their chests touching, despite the fabric separating them.

              Complete silence descended in the room and Adamska took a chance, pushing his forehead to John’s, he could feel the grim and the filth on John’s skin touching his own skin now. He didn’t care though. Especially as those lips pressed to his own. Their tongues darting in and out of each others mouths quickly, as they hadn’t done in the recent weeks of John’s absence. Adamska was getting desperate though, pressing himself tighter to John, pulling on his hair, and gripping John’s shoulders.   John kept pulling the other man closer, eventually letting go of the belt loops and allowing his hands to coast up Adamska’s form. Fingers heading for the buttons of his khaki colored shirt, lips still connected and tongues swirling around each other quickly, hastily. Adamska broke away for a heartbeat, pulling away from John, the Boss, Snake, this _man_ he was straddling in this shitty office chair that kept creaking under their combined weight. He held both sides of John’s face and stared at his one blue eye, holding his gaze for what seemed like an eternity.               

             “You didn’t answer me, Boss. How’d the mission go?” He was breathless and John was too, both of his thumbs swirling circles on Adamska’s hips. John swallowed and quickly ran his tongue over his own lips, trying to pull the man on his lap closer again, obviously trying to resume their activities from earlier. Adamska wouldn’t relent though. He sat still, perched on John’s lap, his hands still holding John’s face closely, waiting. John sighed through his nose before answering.               

              “It was successful.”  His voice was deeper and throatier then normal; he pushed his hips up then, making a point to meet Adamska’s. The man on top bit back a groan as he pushed his forehead against John’s again, their cocks pushing together through the fabric of both of their pants. Adamska ground down onto John’s lap as John pushed himself upward, both of them meeting somewhere in between. Mixed with soft moans and groans, lips and tongues making gentle wet sounds that echoed throughout the small, plain Intel office. Adamska was now leaning against John more and more, both of them melting into one another. In between hurried kisses and the rushing of buttons being undone on Adamska’s shirt, he whispered into John’s mouth, “I’m glad.” His one hand slides down John’s clothed chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath, “I’m uh…I’m glad you’re back too.” John’s lips lingered on the man hovering above him for a moment, his deft fingers popping open the last of the shirts buttons. His eyes gazing down at Adamska’s soft, pale chest, covered only slightly by that red scarf.               

               “Me too.” John said quietly, wrapping his arms around Adamska’s lithe form then, pulling the other man to him. John’s right hand then glided up Adamska’s neck and into his hair, forcibly drawing his head down to John’s shoulder. Adamska was surprised, to say the least, that the Boss would want a cuddle now of all times. Usually, it was after the rough and impassioned ride, but now with the soft _booping_ and _beeping_ of the Intel dome around them and the darkness, the stillness, well, this was nice too.              

               “Did you just get back?” Adamska asked quietly in John’s ear from his position on the bigger man’s shoulder, relishing the warmth of John’s arms around him and in his hair. John pushed his nose into Adamska’s hair then, his lips finding the other mans neck, his teeth tugging at the scarf a bit to move it down some before planting soft, chaste kisses.              

               “Mmhmm…came here first though.” Adamska fused more into John then, suddenly realizing that he was the first stop on the ‘welcome home’ train. John’s lips were pressing into Adamska’s hairline then and everything felt hot and good. But all he could do was bite his lower lip and grind against John. John, Snake, Big Boss, whatever people called him, all Adamska could do was grind against this wonderful man that he had underneath him and thank whoever, whatever, wherever that his worries about the arrangement were just worries, after all. 


End file.
